Beloved Evil

SEVEN

After a painfully cold shower, where Tara had cleaned her skin so harshly that it had reddened, she was now sitting in the cafeteria on level zero, her eyes plastered to the spot where the dead man had earlier been laying.

She mindlessly dragged her fork through the bland food on her plate, pushing around the boiled vegetables and the meat that she prayed was chicken.

"Who's your new friend?"

Tara looked up and saw a boy, around the same age as herself, and an elderly woman smiling down at her.

"This is Tara," Finley introduced as they sat down in front of them, placing their own bland dinnerplates on the thin, metal table.

"Nice to meet you, Tara," the old woman said, sending her a friendly smile. "I'm Dorothy, but you can just call me Dot. And this young man is Jack."

The boy shyly nodded before looking down at his food.

Tara smiled, but wasn't sure that she could hide her surprise.

"Nice to meet you too."

Was Hell not supposed to be for evil people, or had she just not paid enough attention in class? She looked around the room, her eyes scanning the different kinds of types in there. Sure, some did look like someone she wouldn't want to meet in a dark alleyway, but they still looked pretty normal to her. Where were all the devilishly, vicious people that God had banished from eternal bliss in Heaven? Even the woman in front of her looked like someone who would leave freshly baked cookies on her doorstep. She had a round face with red cheeks, and short, white hair that stuck up in different directions, as if she had been electrocuted. The boy also looked like someone she could easily pass in a high school hallway, his narrow face resembling at least ten other people she knew.

"So, when did you arrive, my dear?" the old woman asked as she cut into the dry meat.

"Yesterday," Tara answered, poking a soft carrot with her fork. She knew she had to eat something if she wanted to get her strength back, but it was like her stomach had completely shut off.

"Oh, a newbie," Dot chuckled, "what kind of job did you get assigned to?"

"The one with the..." Tara looked at Finley for help. "Dead bodies?"

Finley just giggled at her nervousness.

"Been there," Dot said. "Don't worry, it gets easier."

Tara thanked her, but in reality, she wasn't quite so sure. She actually hoped that it wouldn't get any easier. The day that she could look at a dead body without feeling her stomach turn, would be the day she had lost herself.

She took a bite of the meat and forced herself to swallow it. It tasted like chicken, but a lot of meat probably did. Finley was happily eating it, almost finished with her plate. As Tara looked at her, she realized how many questions she had, but she didn't know how to phrase them. Most of all, she wanted to know why they were there. What had they done that could be so bad?

"When did you arrive?" she asked instead, taking another bite of food as to not seem too interested.

The woman thought it over. "27, maybe 28 years ago. I stopped keeping track. Jack doesn't talk much, so I'm not quite sure, but I think around 40 years ago."

Tara almost dropped her fork. He'd been there for 40 years? The guy didn't look to be a single day over 21.

Her chock was apparent on her face because Dot chuckled. "Time works different here. You'll see."

Tara was just about to say that she most certainly would not, but kept her mouth shut. Instead, she nodded and smiled and kept eating her dinner.

When they were done, everyone calmy went back to their rooms. Tara didn't say anything on the whole way there. She had too many questions swarming inside her head, so she just led Finley talk.